Saturday, April 7, 2012

In which I have a moral dilemma.

Until now, all the men I've met I was talking to prior to commencing The Blog. Whilst I do sometimes feel a little pinprick of guilt typing our meetings up, this is waylaid by the fact I leave it at least a week before publishing each post in case I change my mind (or my interpretation - they have time to make reparations), and also the fact that I hadn't met them originally with the intention of publicly humiliating them - if that's what they feel has happened, perhaps they should look to their own behaviour?
Kiss and tell
Now, starting new conversations, I feel rather like a venus fly trap - luring men in to ensnare them in a report of their own weaknesses. Am I more expectant of finding someone to love, or more expectant of finding someone to laugh at? It's surely the latter (although I hope you'll agree I am equally willing to laugh at myself). This has definitely taken the sting out of rejection: however badly a date goes instead of feeling I've wasted an evening, two cheering words spring to mind: "blog fodder."

In my last LTR I behaved pretty badly at times, little thinking that the intimacies of our relationship would ever go beyond our bedroom (imagining, as you do when you're 20-something and living together, it'll be 4EVA).  In fact, one of the cruellest parts of the break up was the thought of him sharing with some sympathetic eyelid-batting 6-stone beauty what a monster (both physical and mental) his ex had been (Of course, this did not extend to any hint of remorse about doing the same thing to him - and to be frank at times he'd bordered on the beastly).
For example, no jokes like this. 

However, from this I learnt the valuable lesson that you should never do anything you'd regret having done if someone else found out (e.g. no slamming-door-and-marching-off tantrums, no farting in bed, no using tears to get what you want, no silent treatment, perhaps exerting a fraction more effort in toeing the line with the rude mother-in-law, and no using the full range of my whiplash tongue on a man* - exceptional circumstances notwithstanding).


So is blogging about the men I'm dating an abuse of trust, akin to trampling on their Yeatsian dreams; or is it fair enough that consenting adults should be held accountable for their behaviour, albeit through the medium of a secret, snidey pre-meditated blog?!

*See what an amazing gf I'd be?!

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